


Breathe

by Francium



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Low Chaos (Dishonored), M/M, Post-Low Chaos Ending, SelectivelyMute!Corvo, Talks of the Outsider's past, because that's my major headcanon, slow burner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Francium/pseuds/Francium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"It was a cool night, dark but not empty, slight noises and distant smells creating the atmosphere. They had not yet reached smog levels, but the air was certainly thicker than Serkanos, even this close to the shoreline. Salty bile tingled on his tongue as he headed closer to the sea, crossing the royal gardens and climbing across a vent along the lock-side, gaining a better vantage point. Beneath him water lapped at the walls with finite consistency. Corvo drew the heart, aiming nowhere in particular, and listening intently. </i>
</p><p>  <i>'For the first time in centuries, he walks the shores once more.'</i></p><p> </p><p>Corvo, restless in the time of peace following Emily's crowning, finds The Outsider washed up on Dunwall's shore, weakened from unknown causes and disturbingly human. Working together with what was once a god wasn't what Corvo had expected, and they must hide The Ousider's identity while keeping him in the tower, as well as 'borrowing' Sokolov's research into the void to send the deity back. Maybe it was the humanity that does it, in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rolling In The Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I've wanted to write about these dorks for months and never had the inspiration until now. So I hope you guys enjoy it!

Idle days suited Corvo ill. Upon defeating the loyalists and saying several well-meant farewells, he found himself... hollow, was perhaps the best word for it. Expired. Emily certainly had no use for him, although was always thankful for his company between tutors and miscellaneous staff - however, old-time traditions of bedside stories had no place in the cold quiet mourning of the palace. A newly appointed High Overseer now loomed amongst them in court, although was scarcely seen inside Dunwall Tower. The man often muttered passing remarks to him, mostly about the heretical bearing of the bone charms against his chest Forged by the unholy, apparently. Corvo wouldn't have replied even if he was able to. At least the Abbey was not seeking redemption for Burrows or Martin, which solved most internal issues already. The plague was a diminishing threat, with Piero and Sokolov a formidable force, and the whale trade continued to keep Dunwall's economy afloat, even with the barricades of other countries still in place. Trade was initiating, slowly but surely, 

No wonder The Outsider had bid his goodbye; everything had become so boring. Or at least that's what Corvo thought as he removed the leather gloves in the dim whale-oil and crackling fire of his quarters, thumb trailing lazy circles across the mark. He had not yet figured out whether the ache was psychosomatic or if it was simply a side-effect. One way or another, the gloves rubbed the black lines sore occasionally. If the deity had really wanted to detach, surely he would have taken away the powers as well? It had been months, and combing through for runes and charms had failed to spark a visit. Corvo rubbed his face, huffing into his palms. There were letters that he had to attend to, diplomacy and aristocracy and everything that he didn't belong to, sitting in a neat little pile, pushed to the left. He favoured them with a sour expression before shrugging on a long coat and peeling back the window pane, slipping outside.

It was a cool night, dark but not empty, slight noises and distant smells creating the atmosphere. They had not yet reached smog levels, but the air was certainly thicker than Serkanos, even this close to the shoreline. Salty bile tingled on his tongue as he headed closer to the sea, crossing the royal gardens and climbing across a vent along the lock-side, gaining a better vantage point. Beneath him water lapped at the walls with finite consistency. Corvo drew the heart, aiming nowhere in particular, and listening intently. 

_'For the first time in centuries, he walks the shores once more.'_

Corvo frowned and hesitated, silently cursing the cryptic sentences while waiting for another.

_'A leviathan cannot drown, but a human can'._

So, nothing good. Corvo blinked the distance between his perch and the ground, landing on steady tiles before heading across, leaving the sanctuary of the tower's and taking to the port-side of Dunwall, the ocean consistently at his right side. They had few proper areas of beach, as most of the water edge had been taken over by docking and tackle shops, with the occasional guard outpost and/or mechanism between them. Open firing at weepers or survivors had been outlawed publicly and otherwise, but the huge machines were kept in place; as defence systems rather than offensive gadgets. He avoided all guards out of habit, despite them working underneath Curnow (who was both a good ally and friend), and was sure to manoeuvre away from the trigger-happy Tall-boys. 

Corvo came to a small section of sand, where the pavement had been made to form a promenade closer to the richer districts. He took to the 'beach', remembering old stories of whales acting as companions when the tide came in, long before they were hunted. With little disturbing the peace, he stepped towards the sea. In the darkness, there was little definition between the land and water, making the ripples of ocean seem like lumbering movement of the city itself. Due to the sheer black of the night, he very nearly missed the shape half-covered in water. There was a glint, a telling sign of metal, and a thin form that could almost be human. He blinked closer, moving swiftly across the sand, before realising that it was a person slumped face-up on the beach and breaking into a sprint. Corvo arrived at their side and hooked his hands underneath the armpits, yanking the body backwards, further away from the ocean, before lying them on their back once more and dropping to the sand, putting two steady fingers to their neck.

A pulse, faint but still beating. 

He felt the tension drain from his body and lingered for several seconds on his knees, trying to get a view of the face in such poor lighting. Male, it seemed. Thin frame, a buckled uniform, perhaps a sailor? Corvo noted the watch tower not far to the side and elected to tell them, incase there had been a ship wreckage. Even with good weather and a lighthouse, the seas were treacherous in nature. Corvo pulled himself up, turning away only to start and draw sword when a hand gripped his ankle. He whipped his head around, seeing the arm outstretched to keep him in place. 

'Hello, Corvo?'

Shit. Corvo turned his body, this time, sheathing his sword and bending over slightly to scrutinise the face. He was almost certain that there was a white tint to the boy's eyes, but he could not be certain. Besides, he knew that voice, whether the body or not was recognisable in poor lighting conditions. He replied with a low, guttural noise before hoping touching a leviathan was not deep and dark sin. Corvo picked up the surprisingly thin body beneath him, putting him across his shoulder. There were hands bunched in the back of his coat, meek in strength and barely wrinkling the fabric. Were it not for the urgency of the situation, Corvo would have resisted blinking, as if afraid that any fast move would snap a bone.

It took a vial of elixir, but Corvo returned to his window quickly, having to pick the latch of his window and pass the body over his shoulder through first, lowering him with his arms, before jumping over. The window closed behind him with a satisfying click, and Corvo turned his attention to the man he'd practically smuggled in. 

The look on The Outsider's face would have laughable, in a different context. The sheer lack of dignity after being manhandled was once thing, but being literally dumped on the floor was another. Maybe, if the majority of his eyes were their usual shade of death, Corvo would have smiled. As it was, not such luck.

"Okay?" His voice sounded disused and forced, but at least he'd managed something. 

"Wonderful," The sheer strain in his voice was enough to make a common guard flinch. His chest was heaving, as if each breathe brought pain along with it. Perhaps, that was not so far from the truth. 

The Outsider went to move in that second, pushing with one hand on the floor and bringing up his torso, head hanging low with exhaustion. Somehow his legs were worse, causing him to topple forward rather than stand. Corvo moved to his side, not wanting to cause offence but equally worried about the not-so-godly deity. 

"Sleep?" Corvo went to lift him once more but was batted away, little force behind the movement but a lot of meaning. 

Whatever the Outsider was planning on saying was swallowed by unconsciousness, the figure swaying uncertainly, careening to one side with the promise to topple over. Corvo picked up the god, trying to ignore the severity of what was happening and choosing instead to lie them down on his bed, unbuckling the first few straps of the jacket to allow easier breathing. 

In the morning, he could get answers. Now, past midnight with a sleeping leviathan in his bed, was time for rest. He stripped down his upper half, preferring to use the clothes as a pillow rather than stay in them, and drifted off to the sound of life above him and a far off whale song.


	2. Whale, Whale, Whale, What have we got here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes all the chapter names are going to be terrible puns try to stop me

That night, as with so many before, Corvo dreamt of the Void. Usually, there was a deity lingering atop a manifested pedestal or invading his personal space but tonight there was nothing but vast stillness. He didn't have to explore to know he was alone, that there would be no curious questions or cryptic statements. Every pulse and ripple in the air stung of loneliness, Corvo tried to ignore that what he was experiencing was how The Outsider existed, unchanged and isolated as the millennia rolled past. The only Leviathan, if cultists were to be believed. His left hand ached, the pain waxing and waning depending on the direction he took. Wandering the vast infinity of Void could drive any man mad. Perhaps he hadn't reached that stage yet, but it was intimidating to say the least, not helped by the reality of The Outsider being gone. He had incorrectly assumed that the two were mutually inclusive, that one could not exist without the other. Which begged the question, what was he doing there?

Corvo was jolted awake by the slightest sound, springing to his feet almost instantly. He regained some composure quickly enough, straigtening both back and legs when he realised it was the bed creaking. Quick eyes scrutinised the room in seconds, identifying every little detail. Weak dawn light trickled through the closed shutters, a slight draft bringing with it the smell of sea water. The only sounds were a slight breeze, maids outside and the rustling of uneasy and broken sleep.

When the Outsider leaned forward, having pulled himself into an upright position, he met Corvo with too-white eyes and sickly pale skin. While his iris and pupil remained their familiar, intoxicating darkness, it did not consume the entirety of his eyes, making the surrounding blood-shot sclera much more striking. He gripped onto the the sheets much akin to a drowning man would scrabble at the edge of his raft, desperately trying to keep afloat. Previously, the sheer power and gait of The Outsider cast a huge shadow - be it metaphorically or literally - but now, he was meek and feeble, with such a lean and ill-maintained body, sickly alabaster skin to contrast dark hair and shadows. Most strikingly, he looked terrified. 

"You... Do I know you?" Same voice, albeit more emotive than prior, shaky and yet again so much weaker than it should be, "Where are the fathers?"

Corvo furrowed his brow, stepping closer to the bed only to notice how the man flinched as he approached. He pointed to his lips, tying to conjure sounds to no avail. This was one of the numerous times he cursed being mute - even if it was selectively so - and was itching to ask questions. Not-quite-black eyes studied him with a notably familiar sense of curiosity, one eyebrow slightly raised, head tilted to the side. After the silence stretched, the Outsider looked away, gaze tracing the room as if it were a prison cell. Corvo would know.

"They took your voice, right? You... can't talk?" He looked down at thin hands, rubbing circles into the palm with his thumb, "I understand. They tried to take my eyes, I think. I don't remember...I.."

The Outsider dropped his head into his hands, forcibly drawing deep breaths. Corvo rested a reassuring hand on the scrawny shoulder, feeling every muscle tense at the touch. Honestly, he was so out of his depths in this entire situation. He suddenly wished Callista could magically appear and help - void knows he'd settle for Sokolov at this point - but here shift didn't start of at least another hour, and he hadn't yet perfected a lie to justify The Outsider's appearance. Corvo went to the desk he'd been casually ignoring last night, making sure to avoid the letters from nobility and instead retrieving paper, quill and ink, scrawling his name and holding it up.

"Corvo? What kind of name is that?" There was something friendly and inviting about the slight twist of The Outsider's lips, forming almost a smile, so Corvo let the comment slide, "I... I can't give you my name.. I don't have on, I think."

Nodding as if he understood, Corvo began writing again, holding up the page containing a brief description of what happened last night, skipping the 'unimportant' details such as city guards and supernatural teleportation. Nothing overly influential, of course. It was only then that the Outsider caught a glimpse of the mark scrawled along his hand and physically flinched, whole demeanour changing.

"Why do you have that?" the boy began pulling away, the disgust and fear mingling within his voice and posture. His eyes never left the hand, even when Corvo had put his palms up to signal peace, 

Corvo examined the black lines and circular structures, flexing his hand thoughtfully. Few people had seen the mark, and Samuel was the only friend to witness it in action; unintentionally of course. It had been after the Boyle party, when the security had forced the boatman further down the city canal. He'd blinked to avoid tallboys and weepers, then from the rim of the water-way into the actual boat without thinking. Samuel hadn't acted surprised, or even acknowledged it verbally, but gave the slightest shake of his head, not angry but disappointed. Between Callista, Cecilia, Samuel and Daud, nobody who had seen his mark had acted as terrified. 

Before he could find any form of reply, there was a sharp knock on the door, making both of them start, "Corvo? Sorry to intrude, Emily's woken up early today and requests to have breakfast with you now. Are you okay?"

Good old Geoff Curnow, knowing exactly how to break an awkward moment. It was still relatively dark outside, but in the cold winter months that was hardly a surprise. Corvo moved over to the door, favouring to keep the Outsider in his sight for as long as possible. He opened the door just enough that the captain could see his face but not the rest of the scene behind him. Curnow wasn't one to gossip, but finding the royal protector with a man in his bed probably wouldn't go down well. They were a relatively liberal ruling, but the city population itself was not as keen.

"I'm fine," Corvo even managed to sound half-convincing. He could already see on the man's face how pleased he was to be spoken to, "I'll be there soon."

Geoff bid him farewell and walked away, hearing the door click closed as he left. Corvo had a particular fondness for the Curnow family, finding them to be in equal measures loyal and kind. A good combination, in regards of personality. 

"I thought you couldn't talk," The Outsider sniffed, something akin to contempt lingering in between them. Corvo, shrugged, deciding that he was not in the right state of mind to explain anything as complex as his speech. 

What he did do, however, was begin fishing through for suitable attire. He would need to provide clothes for his companion as well, since the buckled-jacket and tight trousers stank of the sea and were no doubt filthy. Corvo should have stripped down The Outsider, given he'd slept in soaking wet clothes, but had honestly been scared enough just touching the god. Besides, it just stuck him as a strange thing to do. 

After some rummaging he found a few of his old clothes from Serkonas, most of which was too slim for him but held sentimental value. He offered these to the Outsider, who had pulled himself off the bed, peeling away from damp sheets in favour of following Corvo's every action. They were accepted with some hesitation and Corvo turned back to his draws, pulling out the more regal and accepted dunwall uniform. He'd meant to direct the Outsider to the privacy of an en suite bathroom, but he'd already changed trousers and was slipping into the baggy under-shirt with little form of modesty. Corvo supposed he had little right to comment, since he'd been shirtless for the entire night, but still decided to keep on the same trousers and just cover his torso.

"Where did you get so many scars?" 

Corvo looked back, hiding his frown as he pulled on the rest of the uniform and began looking for a hair band. It was a fair enough question in many regards; he was littered with scars, some small and faded, others huge gashes that con-caved his skin. A large amount had only just healed over, remainders of his 6 months in coldridge prison. There were others, of course, being too slow on the draw, old missions that Jessamine had sent him on, and long before, when he was scrapping in the streets. What a catch he was. 

"Prison." He coughed out, much more forced than intended, before quirking his head. The Outsider clearly had doubts and questions, but was either used to being docile or had decided that following instructions was the best course of action, because he went where told with trained obedience. 

Corvo supposed, as he closed his door and began the navigation through the tower, that he had brought this on himself. After all, he'd complained that everything had become boring.


	3. Let me Kelp you

Despite how inconvenient it could be, Emily insisted on congregating all her mentors and favourite staff for 'family' meals; breakfast was no exception. The maids and other such staff either ate before or after, dependent on Emily's sparadic sleep pattern. Corvo somewhat hoped that they were not a family, because although he and Sokolov were both Serkonon, he really didn't want them to be blood relatives. Few of the Hounds Pit were remaining, with Samuel preferring a more isolated and structured lifestyle, while Cecilia simply didn't feel comfortable surrounded by upper-class members, despite being somewhat found of their little empress. Corvo could appreciate that, and knew how nervous she was by nature, so didn't push for either of them to stay near. At least Piero and Callista were still nearby constantly. It was almost grating that of all the people Emily had taken a shining to, Sokolov was amongst them. Corvo often suspected it was because he would play along with her farcical inventions, and actually made some prototypes. He was drinking hard liquor already, hardly the best role-model. 

The Outsider however, who was sat directly across from the inventor, had a vastly different impression. At least some things never changed. When they had arrived, being the last to the dining hall, Emily had gripped Corvo's arm and pulled him into his allotted seat by her side, asking questions much faster than he could possibly respond. Within that time, Sokolov had walked up to the Outsider and began a mix of psychoanalysis and useless soliloquise, concluding only when The Outsider turned to address Corvo and asked deadpan, "Is it just me, or does he look like his head should be mounted in a hunters den?" Corvo deeply regretted taking a drink at that second, because he promptly started choking on it. 

One of Emily's nameless servants had taken lead of the conversation at that point, guiding The Outsider to a free seat before, in a conversational tone, enquiring who Corvo's 'friend' was.

He signed 'trainee' in response, which Caliista translated with ease. Most among the tower had grown accustomed to that, and a lot of the new recruits were taught sign language as a part of their basic training. Corvo would never be able to express how thankful he was of that fact alone.

Each of them took turns in describing anything that had changed within the time span of that morning and the previous night, mostly passing statements or vague comments, occasionally references to older events. When it came to Sokolov's turn, he spoke with a self-confident flourish, "I have had an absolute breakthrough in my studies of the supernatural exposition, which will most likely have consequences in the foreseeable future."

"Sounds like you'll be keeping my guys busy," Geoff quipped, eyeing Sokolov as intensely as one can with a mouth full of pastry.

Emily cocked her head, legs swinging lightly, the floor buzzing each time her feet scuffed the tiles, "Are there any girls in the city guard?"

"Some," Callista replied thoughtfully, "Although it's not a common place for a women, and while the opportunity is open to them, a lot of girls prefer more domestic pursuits."

"Ew," Emily pulled a face, her legs moving that little bit faster, and Corvo felt that sense familiar form of endearment rise in his chest. He dared a glance at The Outsider, who was for the most part looking bewildered. 

It struck Corvo that The Outsider was of a great age, and without retaining what he had learnt of the world, there was a huge gap in knowledge socially and otherwise. 'Older than the rocks in this city', was the approximate phrasing used. Corvo knew very little about history, especially that specific to Dunwall, and was at a loss as to what The Outsider might have been anticipating. He had probably fallen into some form of cultural and social shock - that having been said, surely his vernacular would be different? Or perhaps there was in fact some memory? He hoped the latter point was true. Teaching a once-god and finding them permanent residency sounded like a hassle he'd rather not experience, let alone the effect his absence had on the void...

"Corvo's not listening!"

He frowned, looking at the little empress with a mix of confusion and downright betrayal, without being certain what for. Captain Curnow was studying him with a withdrawn and tired expression, repeating his question, "Do you want me to take this one outside for training?"

Corvo looked at the Outsider, who had leaned back and was observing the situation, a perfectly neutral expression on his face. What a prick. Corvo shook his head before dismissing both of them from the table, leaving a silent promise to Emily that they would reunite at noon. He took The Outsider to the Library next, which was permanently lit if not always as well maintained as the majority of the tower. Many books had references to the Leviathans and deities, and while it was a far reach, they might draw some helpful information, 

The Outsider folded neatly in a too-large chair, picking at his hands as if they were foreign and strange objects. Corvo had noted the way he glanced at several mechanisms, particularly the still-alight whale oil lamps scattered around the dusty shelves. The idea of such a volatile substance in an entirely flammable room was somewhat daunting, but it provided and eerily void-like quality that Corvo could appreciate. 

"Corvo?"

He nodded, glancing over his shoulder, ponytail swishing in response to the action.

"I want to..." The fidgeting increased significantly as he groped for the correct words, "I don't like your city, your life, but I don't want to return... It wasn't as if there was anywhere for someone like me."

"Remember...Things?" Corvo spoke in a tremulous and throaty voice, but at least he spoke. The shelf he'd been skimming was a bust and he moved on, keeping close to his companion while branching outwards across the shelves. A lot of the texts would be banned from majoriative libraries, but he knew several heretical novels had been slipped in without the Abbey's notice. 

"It's all disjointed," The Outsider trained his eyes at a single spot, as if it would increase his concentration, "nothing I can remember feels like reality, and some of it... Doesn't bare thinking about,"

His hands had moved instinctively closer to his face as a defence mechanism, lingering close to the too-dark, too-white eyes. Corvo collected a few ocean-based fictions as well as a rather unloved copy of, 'Spirit Of The Deep', depositing them on the table before catching the man's eyes and holding the gaze for several long seconds. he was attempting to look heartfelt, but wasn't exactly great at expressing emotions, and probably came across as intimidating by mistake. Hopefully the sentiment was appreciated above all else.

"Have we met before? In another world..."

Corvo nodded uncommittedly, not wanting to arouse too much concern. He was certain that the Outsider knew - or suspected - more than he was letting on, but let that lie to rest for now. He pulled out the paper he'd smuggled from earlier and nicked someone else's pen, jotting down a couple of key words for them to keep a note of. He contemplated asking Sokolov so any hints and tips, but decided to let him simmer first, rather than antagonise someone with an extensive knowledge of the deity.

Corvo thumbed lightly through a couple of whale-related paragraphs, as if that was going to help, while the Outsider flicked through the 'Spirit Of The Deep', lips pursed, "'In these sleepless nights of despair, you appear to me not as the mighty leviathan, but as a young man, with eyes as black as the Void.'"

When he noticed Corvo's peaked curiosity he skimmed the page before shrugging, "It appears to be a romanticized version of the religion from... My city... Coastal, much akin to here, but the architecture and society structure was much different. I assume you and all the people before hand were nobility, yes?"

Of course, to an exterior gaze, that probably was what they looked like. A large royal family, perhaps slightly flaunting given how large the Tower was. Most likely, he assumed that someone like Geoff would be the authorital and ruling figure, rather than a child; not exactly an unfair wager. Corvo shook his head, writing a vague explanation of their positions of power and how the current governing system worked without delving too far into the politics.

"You are such strange people. What I was trying to say was that in my city, we had a tale of a god with eyes the same, but they were not described as a man. I don't think they were ever given a name..." The curiosity was achingly familiar, back to the days of shrine-summons and genuinely interested questions. The Outsider pushed away the book and pulled forward what looked more like a pamphlet - the Seven Strictures, apparently. Oh, the irony was too much to bare. "Instead, fix your eyes to what is edifying and to what is pure, and then you will be able to recognize the profane monuments of the Outsider.' They... That's what the fathers called me."

Corvo made a slight inclination with his eyebrows, clearly wanting more information. The Outsider sat back, putting down the paper and keeping eye contact from across the table, "I didn't have a name, I don't think, just that. Outsider. It was mocking, no doubt. The Fathers were... Fanatics. They harnessed powers beyond the comprehension of man, channelling it through marks like yours. They wanted... In theory, they were trying to create a vessel for the Void... I didn't understand what that meant. They took in the street kids, turned us into playthings... Forced us to..."

The Outsider cut off once more. It was as if all topics had an expiry date that measure in minutes, and over stepping that line lead to silence. At least there was some depth to Corvo's understanding; The Leviathan wasn't born but created, against it's own will as well, if the Outsider's tone was to be believed. Which gave way to the thought perhaps the Outsider had always been rather human, at least in emotion, since that was what he started as. 

Corvo, in that moment, remembered something else the strange god had once said to him;

"Always a little more innocence left to lose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much filler tbh, sorry guys :c Glad that people are enjoying the story so far though!


	4. Life's a beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys are enjoying the puns cause I've got so many preplanned like

Extensive research and numerous breaks had concluded with nothing to show for it. The Outsider slumped in his seat, head cocked, lolling sideways. Bored beyond comparison, apparently, but still docile. It was preferable given earlier he'd entertained himself by swiping brick-a-brac either across or off the table. What an asshole. Corvo's response had devolved over time, turning from frustration to cold yet irritant acceptance, simply righting whatever inanimate victim the Outsider had chosen and placing said object back upright, concentration unbroken. Emily had passed through with Callista, collecting reading materials for her history lessons, and much to Corvo's dismay it turned out she liked the Outsider. Probably because with her, he was courteous rather than arcane. At least them turning their attention to each other gave Corvo a slight hiatus to jot down what he had learnt so far - effectively nothing, but it was the effort that counted.

At least some of what he'd discovered corresponded with several scrawls and audiographs he'd discovered during his bout with the loyalists. Some were inane ramblings that had been discarded amongst sewage water or at the base of hand-constructed shrines, while others provided a similar perspective to the library books. Unfortunately, it was nothing that he didn't already know, and nothing covered, 'What to do with a stranded and memoryless ethereal being'. Eat, drink and make merry seemed the best solution. 

The Outsider was, at that moment in time, meddling with one of the bone charms previously strapped to the asymmetric shoulder belt, twiddling it using only his thumb and forefinger. Of all the enchantments, this one was rather tame, allowing water to act as Piero's spiritual remedy. Corvo had given it over willingly whilst re-reading the same paragraph several times. Not because there was a particuarly hidden or obscure secret to be obtained, he just couldn't focus properly. 

"Corvo?" Black iris's fell on him, alight with concern, "What are you looking for? Truly? This isn't all from the goodness of your heart, however it may come across. Kindness always has a price. What's yours?"

Whatever tragic events had happened many years ago had started taking a toll, apparently. Corvo pursed his lips, contemplating the best course of action. The Outsider, at this point, was volatile and exposed. A sudden explanation of 'By the way, you're a god' could easily untip or antagonise him. On the other hand, were he to lie and be discovered, any faith and trust forged between them would be lost. Their relationship was fragile enough.

"I....know you," Corvo managed, settling that it was a good compromise between reality and fiction. 

The Outsider smiled lightly, "I guessed that much. There's just so much here I'm not getting... I don't understand the relevance of Leviathans, for example."

Corvo had a lot of conflicting feelings in regards to their current situation. In many respects, he held a lot of pity towards The Outsider's past, particularly because it was familiar to his own; nameless to the world, scrapping on the streets of Serkonas. Furthermore, he felt a close connection to the Outsider due to his help and consistent companionship during the darkest times, albeit not every piece of advice was sound, and they were occasionally at odds with each other. He had been a permanent structure right up until he said farewell. That still did not make talking, truthful or otherwise, any easier.

There was a several seconds pause before Corvo shook his head in defeat and slumped, forehead pressing into the palms of his hands. He let out a low and broken exhale, too frustrated to be a sigh. They had been in the library for several hours, and hadn't discovered a damn thing, which coupled with the fact he couldn't explain the current predicament, left him feeling rather hapless. The Outsider leaned across the table and gave him a sympathetic if awkward pat on the shoulder, pushing reservations aside temporarily. This kid was gentle, above all else. What the hell happened?

And naturally, drawn to the melancholy and sin, the High Overseer decided to pay a visit. He had an unfortunate likeness to Admiral Havlock in build and general facial structure, as if Corvo needed another reason to dislike him, and held himself far too highly given the tensions between the Tower and Abbey. The Outsider tensed upon approach of the Overseer, and a fleeting thought made Corvo wonder just how much he had forgotten...

"Dragging others down with you, I see?" The red-coat hissed, his features crinkling in disgust. The Outsider opposite Corvo mimicked the expression, perhaps a solidarity that he was in fact on Corvo's team. Whatever that entailed, "It's bad enough you insist on insulting the abbey with your frankly obvious heretics worship, but spreading it to others? We will have this dealt with, rest assured."

"Where as you spread joy to those around you. Tell me, do all overseer's have a penchant for cheap... 'working girls'? Or perhaps it's more of an issue that not all of them are women? Or even that you've willingly lusted for a witch before?" The Outsider had a smug, easy grin twisting his thin lips and he spun the bone charm in his possession between his thumb and forefinger. Corvo could never guarantee what he perceived to have seen, but it was as if there was a devilish flicker of black through the white's of the Outsider's eyes. The High Overseer flashed Corvo a somewhat horrified look before backing away, exiting with haste, back taunt. That was going to be difficult to explain to Captain Curnow. When The Outsider spoke again, it sounded reminiscent of ebbing waves and void-songs, "Sleep will not come willingly tonight, but with the press of an old arrow dart. He will recite the strictures before bed, as though that were his addiction. Tonight, he will dream of the women he killed, claiming she was a weeper."

When Corvo threw him a sceptical frown, The Outsider tapped the pamphlet he had read earlier, containing all publicly available information about the Abbey of The Everyman, and shrugged nonchalantly, "I read, books and people. And took a wild stab in the dark."

They stayed in those positions till high noon, when the sheer boredom became too much even for Corvo, who preferred the practical approach to situations in the first place. Pocketing what little information he had collected, the Royal Protector led them around the tower, taking a slight detour to snack in the kitchen - much the head chefs chagrin - before heading into the dungeon. Sokolov and Piero had adopted what had been the Torturer's areas as their own, several days after Corvo had deconstructed the shrine, apologetic. He'd tied the purple fabrics around stones and threw them into the ocean, hoping that was enough of an apology. It was preferable to having an alter found inside Dunwall tower.

Piero spotted them first, waving enthusiastically at Corvo, whom he both had huge respect for and found a great source of inspiration in. Somehow, that did not act as a comfort. The Outsider peered around the nameless bottles and jars, before moving on to give close inspection to the mechanical inventions. 

Sokolov pointed much less friendlily at the Outsider, "What is this one doing here?"

Corvo pointed his thumb at his chest, gesturing a basic 'with me' before handing over a pre-written piece of paper, that read, "What do you know about the void?" Blunt, perhaps, but neither of the two had any issues with such discussions, nor where they overly fanatic worshippers; or at least Piero wasn't. Sokolov was obsessed with the Outsider, but it seemed more he was compelled to study - even drawn to - the void.

"It's not my area of expertise, I must admit, although my ventures into whale oil has led to questionable sources in regards to leviathans," Piero moved behind what looked like a militarized version of an arch-pylon, stooping down to consult his research journals, "Which, in turn, mentions the void. A past fantasy of mine, the Doorway To Nowhere, was meant to harness the energy from the void,"

"A fascinating idea," Sokolov nodded proudly, as if it were his own creation, before speaking over his shoulder to his partner, "Pull out my large leather book, as well. It contains an abundance of useful information."

"Now that I doubt," The Outsider chipped in, hands clasped behind his back, bending overly slightly to observe a preserved rat foetus. He tapped the glass as if that would have any impact before straightening up and wondering away. Corvo kept a close eye on the brown jacket and slender shoulders.

Pieros passed over a collection of pages, several amalgamated from other books, but the majority being scraps pulled out of proper journals. Sokolov's book was begrudgingly dumped on top, and with many sincere thanks from Corvo, him and the Outsider ascended the stairs and returned to Corvo's quarters. 

The first course of action was to run a bath, because it had become apparent during the day that the Outsider stank of salt water. While the water was running and the deity was flicking through the recently collected pages - having pushed Sokolov's book to the side, quite deliberately - Corvo slipped out the door and informed the maid that he and his friend would be eating in his room tonight. 

"What I said, about kindness," The Outsider had something of a shamed expression, eyes trained at the floor, "I am thankful for your hospitality... You strike me as a good man, Corvo. I wish we had met on better terms."

Corvo smiled lightly and nodded, because that was a sentiment he could share. Were this The Outsider he'd originally known, this strange and devious boy who new fear like a family member, perhaps they could have been friends. It was not an idea Corvo entertained often, for any human connection would most likely be considered boring, but here... Everything was different, in so many regards. 

When the bath had been sufficiently filled, resting at a lukewarm temperature, Corvo led the Outsider inside and deposited fresh towels and clothing on the tiles, closing the door behind him. There was a pause of silence before he heard a dull 'thunk' and the tell-tale splash of water. At least baths were self-explanatory. 

Corvo crossed from the ensuite to the fireplace nearby, pressing his left hand against the false wall. Even with the thick wall, he could feel the power of several stashed runes humming contently. The shrine he had assembled was less conventional than the others he'd seen, taking the entirety of the fake room. An alter took up the majority of one side, while the other held naught but a comfortable chair. In the long days of isolation, he took a huge amount of comfort at the prospect he was not always alone.

There was another smile threatening to emerge as he drew away and glanced towards the closed bathroom door, thinking about all that had transpired in the past. On better terms, perhaps.

But not like this. Never like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone's being a dirty lil liar


	5. Fish and Ships

Corvo contemplated the awkward conversation that would occur should he suggest sharing a bed when the time came, and arrived at the conclusion he should remain sleeping on the floor until further ado. Not the most comfortable situation, but having slept in hovels and sewers, a palace floor was hardly poverty. The Outsider had claimed residency in his bed, his dinner balancing in his lap, proving there was little to gain from arguing over sleeping situations. For the moment, Corvo was hunched near The Outsider, technically in touching distance should he lean forward. 

"Do you know how they extract the oil?" The Outsider gestured towards a lamp he had recently lit, throwing it a somewhat disgusted grimace. Corvo shook his head and minutely began eating faster, predicting somehow that he would lose his appetite soon enough. "I assume you are aware that the creatures are alive during the process? They hang the whales in huge leather bindings, suspended above collection pool, and create a huge slit along their stomach. so the fats ooze out."

Corvo pushed his half-finished plate, swallowing his mouthful with difficulty. There was certainly a glint of glee to those celestial eyes, a slight upturn that spoke of pride. He supposed it was mostly due to the sheer spite directed at Dunwall's whaling industry, which while helped the country thrive, did result in the endangerment of a beautiful species. He had never personally been to Rothwell's slaughterhouse, which was suggested to be inhumane both to beast and worker, but had in the past been confronted by the owner himself. He had marched to Dunwall Tower with several an amalgamation of butchers and disgruntled workmen, demanding a word with their fair empress. Corvo wondered how intertwined the Outsider was in regards to whales as a general population; could he feel their pain? Unlikely, but still possible especially given that runes were constructed from whale bone.

The Outsider finished shortly after, having finished the entirety of his food, despite having practically double Corvo's portion. Clearly accustomed to sporadic meals, just as a fed cat would scavenge for more. They don't know when their next meal will be. Corvo glanced through huge windows situated across his back wall, facing south across the gardens and ocean, before excusing himself. He owed Emily a visit, especially after avoiding the 'family' dinner. 

Their bedrooms were - unsurprisingly - close, and he could scrabble through an air vent and drop into her room should the need arise. Infact, it was a faster route than walking, especially if he blinked. One could never be too cautious and should the same fate befall Emily as it had Jessamine... Corvo shook his head, hand hovering above the handle of her room. He knocked first, as was customary, although the formality of bowing had never been part of their relationship. Emily flung the door open and beamed at him, guiding him to her fireside table. 

Hours on end during court left Emily fidgety, having to fake sophistication in a throne when her feet were inches away from the floor, frozen stiff. Here, in the sanctuary of home, she wriggled endlessly and it was tiring to watch alone, "I thought you and your friend were busy holding hands and doing adult things."

It was a miracle he stayed composed during that, suddenly remembering her time at the Golden Cat. Still, the Outsider? She could have at least assumed someone half-human, "Honestly, that's not-"

"It's okay, I don't mind," Emily had a face that radiated innocence and kindness. Emily the white, they called her, understandably so, "You deserve to be happy, and Captain Curnow said that sometimes men have men partners, because it's what makes them smile more, and that's good because you don't smile enough." She stuck out her hands and used her thumbs to push up the corners of his lips, giggling, "Like that, see? It's not that hard."

Corvo rolled his eyes, forcing a smile that dissolved into genuine laughter. Talking did not come easily, nor naturally, but Emily was an exception "As you wish, empress." 

She grinned as if the status was nothing more than an inside joke. Emily had always preferred fighting to the nitty-gritty politics and it was easier to mock her title than succumb to it. They sat with the warmth across their sides, until Corvo's skin was itchy along his jugular and Emily's voice dropped with the syrup of sleep. He kissed her forehead and bid her sweet dreams, present until she had crawled beneath silken sheets. Comforted, as always, by Emily's everlasting happiness, he returned to his room.

"Have you ever seen a wolf before, Corvo?" The Outsider was slumped, staring - juvenile and dumb-struck - out across the painted sky. He had not turned around, but took an assumption from the swinging door that it was the Royal Protector entering. At least he was correct, "Perhaps, the closest you've been is a wolfhound. A poor approximation of such a gracious predator. They're not indigenous here, of course, but a millennia ago were shipped in for the sake of betting, I believe. Occasionally, they had handlers, orphaned children who's entrails could go to the hounds and no one would care. I spoke to one, Tyvian if I recall correctly, who told me that when the sky bled, it was a wolf devouring the sun. A religious sentiment, naturally. The Fathers did not include this in their fundamental beliefs,and I didn't understand, for how could something so beautiful be born from tragedy? I suppose, your very existence answers that question."

Corvo blinked, unsure how to proceed, and decided his best course of action was to respond with the wonderment he felt. Honesty was to be practised, not just preached, "How so?"

"There's something tragic about you," Accompanying the replay was a long, thought fall head-tilt, "And yet something beautiful. I assumed it was self-explanatory, but as a man unaccustomed to joy I'll let that much slide. It may simply be the piece of void you carry with you."

Unconsciously he rubbed the mark stretching across his hand, rubbing the scarred knuckles in a similar fashion, "You remember?"

"More by each passing second," The Outsider nodded, finally swinging round to face Corvo. Certainly, there was a darker hue to his eyes, as if the blackness spread like a contagious disease, like a rat-plague. There was a lot to say about that, and too few words, "Howling abyss, a void that hardly even quivers. Finite lives of strangers, begging at my feet. I understand that the Void will require me, will want a way to channel into your world, but Corvo, please.. I don't want to go. Please don't make me." 

Corvo stepped closer, examining The Outsider's features. The confession was a burden, a fear. He wanted to offer comforts, even in the form of lies, and so sat on the bed beside him, "Promise."

Neither of them would find solace in slumber that night, and were prolonging the wait even as evening turned to darkness. Nightmares stuck to Corvo like sodden clothes, and The Outsider was shaken by his own thoughts. For that reason, Corvo set up an oil lamp on either bedside table and collected his old deck of cards, stacking them between him and his companion. For the next short eternity they played anything from old traditional games that had dissipated with each millennia and contemporary Serkonan gamblings, exchanging miscellaneous junk including Corvo's hairbands and their cutlery from dinner. The Outsider's voice had gradually dropped its trembling undertone, and was two-beats away from its usual silky monotone. There was much more life to this deity, more colour in his cheeks perhaps, or more animate expressions. It may have been the tension between them that thrummed in the air, a similar attraction to the heart and a rune, a tension that did not haunch their backs an dull their smiles, but a static buzz breaching the distance inbetween them. 

For the first night in a long time, Corvo was not haunted by his dreams. He lay face first into the covers of his bed, an ace of hearts sticking directly to his cheek with The Outsider running calm fingers through his hair. The void did not manifest, and he was saved from the pseudo-stench of corpses amongst the flooded district. Content, his dreams were flittering purples, shorelines ebbing consistently and a voice, one part whale two parts human, that sang out, seeming to echo from the ocean itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than normal, sorry guys


	6. Where's your cod now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am Corvo/The Outsider trash.  
> Also a lot of this seems like headcanon but it's actually not, it's either based on the game designer Harvey Smith's twitter or it's hinted at within stories in the game. An example would be talking about the Outsider's perception of emotions, which is basically directly from Harvey Smith's twitter.

When morning came he was roused by cool hands trailing indecipherable patterns against the dip of his spine. Acutely aware of his nose pressing into a canvas of alabaster skin, Corvo took note of his position, with ribs resting in his palms and his knees curled up to both their stomachs. In no way a dignified; if he was lucky, the hands were moving through instinct. They could avoid the inevitable awkwardness. Corvo shuffled backwards, earning the slightest groan of protest, forcing him to still. The hands against his back pulled, manoeuvring him so he stretched vertically, brought face-to-face with The Outsider. 

"Hello, Corvo," His voice oozed with sleep, honey-thick and oh so human, hinted affection rumbling like a newly born storm, "Good dreams?"

He nodded, earning a smile in return. Here, where the light cascaded down in a shimmering torrent only to stream-line directly The Outsider, his eyes glinted with the faintest hint of blue. Perhaps that was their natural hue, before... Before everything. Corvo wondered about drawing the heart, more for morbid curiosity. 'Cradle songs of comfort and bones gnawed by teeth,' it had once hissed, less animosity and yet a slither of fear. He supposed, given The Outsider had claimed to craft the disturbing contraption, that came to no surprise. Corvo had not yet decided whether he was thankful for or disgusted by the Heart, but supposed his opinion didn't matter either way.

Corvo sat up, swinging his legs off the bed, padding around the room with practised ease. An assassins tread. If anybody walked in and so much as glimpsed The Outsider in his sheets - then again, it would simply confirm pre-existing accusations. The few social interactions he'd had were sure to make everyone's opinion adamantly clear. Not unfairly so in some regards, he was familiar with the affections of men as well as women; put simply, the golden cat was not exclusively in supply of the fairer sex. Never anything committed, even back in Serkonos, and certainly not here where rank and expectation dictated his romantic life. Any partner would be both a liability and in constant danger, he couldn't subject anyone to that kind of lifestyle. Isolation was inevitable. 

Speaking of companions, the Outsider was sprawled, limbs intertwined with the duvet, stretching his arms as far as the constrictions of his shirt would allow him, face now buried in the thick of pillows. Corvo had stashed the Heart within a safe, along with several more precious and sentimental items, where it remained until his evening errands required it. Often, what was spoken did not provide more information for his missions, but was insight into others lives. It kept him human, in some respects, reminded Corvo to persistently avoid harming another. Now when faced towards his bed, it rattled out, _'Poor orphaned boy, broken, abused, unwanted. Unwilling until the very end, howling into a void where no one can hear."_

Nothing he hadn't already anticipated, and yet spoken the emphasis kicked in. Corvo locked the heart away with practised finesse, contemplated what he'd learned, leading to him successfully asking, "One leviathan?" 

"A singular at a time, yes," The Outsider turned over and drew himself up, head against the bare-wood back rest, no small amount of scepticism marring his features. The way his eyes flickered indicated a desperate attempt to remember. Through thousands of years, it must be difficult to locate a single aspect, "However, when one dies, it it simply replaced. Consider the Void as anthropomorphic, it has equal cravings and demands... Catering to one humans specific whims is one of the ways it may entrap them, in order to... turn them lets say."

Oh, what Sokolov would pay for that information, then again he'd know where to apply it. For the most part, the scientific and mythical aspects were both lost on him. Corvo gestured vaguely with his hands, indicating an attempt to speak, "Void.. Beautiful."

"No," Whispered as if a sin among saints, "All-encompassing, terrifying, destructive, all fitting descriptions. Far less beautiful than it is lonely."

Corvo felt an ache in his chest, blossoming outwards. He wanted to alleviate the loneliness, to shield this empty shell of a god and remain ever in their company. Were fate on their side, the Void would summon another, leaving this human in its wake, deposited in Dunwall Towers sanctuary and guarded by a Royal Protector. 

After Jessamine, was he even entitled to call himself that?

The Outsider shifted in tune with the atmosphere, head tilted an something akin to compassion in the ease of his movements, the slight head-tilt and shadow of a smile. At least his humanity was not drained in relation to the recovery of his memories, or Corvo would hardly be able to tolerate their current predicament. Assassins were not regarded for their patients be he predator or not. In response to his somewhat pessimistic mood, and being eternally talkative, his favourite residential deity began elaborating once more about unasked questions,

"Remembering the void and all that it entailed includes, you, of course. As a prefix I would like to specify as that... thing... As a leviathan, I had human emotion however lacked human perception. That was lost in time, I suppose. You fascinated me, as I'm sure you are aware, but further more I admired you," When The Outsider lifted his gaze to match Corvo's, his face was alight with sincerity, "Without being able to perceive that I did. There are repercussions to the events unfolding, some which may leave me worse for ware if I've predicted correctly, so I wanted you to know that in the eternity of ocean, you created ripples big enough to shake a leviathan."

Corvo coughed awkwardly, directing his gaze across the room - it was preferable to greeting the sheer honest affection aimed towards him. Considering the deity a friend had always been a one-sided relationship, a strange mix of admiration and starvation. He supposed, there truly hadn't been a more persistent figure in his footsteps. Perhaps, he should respond in a similar fashion, "Missed you."

The Outsider's perpetually cold features warmed significantly, a new light crinkling his features. He stood and followed Corvo, placing what could only be described as a curious hands on the man's jawline, ghosting rather than stroking the bone, black eyes never diverted. Given both of them were touch-starved, each simple snippet of contact felt alight. 

Corvo took the feeble fingers in his own, battered hands, lowering them from his face but not quite releasing, "Court day. You'll be alone."

"I have been so for several millennia," The Outsider looked so young in earnest, far more alive than ever before, "I can last several hours."

With that being said, Corvo prepped both physically and mentally, readying for the mundality that accompanied such times. They were a necessity however, enforcing laws and prosecution, insuring that the vultures - pardon, nobles - were satisfied enough to support the crown should there be an economic downfall. Yes, it was important. Just fucking dull. Once fully clothed and prepared to deal with their shit, Corvo departed, leaving The Outsider with permission to enter several parts of the tower and recommendation on what to avoid. 

Rather than following this advice, The Outsider triggered a switch concealed behind Corvo's bedpost, watching with sly amusement as the wall separated and the cool blue light washed across the living room. Stepping inside, he let the displaced mechanism right itself before kneeling, admiring the plutherer of gifts tucked beneath the physical lip of the alter. Books, carvings, oddities found through adventuring. A few more precious items that could - should - have been sold through Piero instead concealed here, Ashamed of their own existence, as if they could not measure up to his expectations. The Outsider had seen a great amount of finery in his time, some offerings of peace while others decelerations of abandonment - these were far more personal. Snippets of adventures. 

And beneath everything, the only gift unseen by him before, a tan leather jacket, modelled similar to his previous with the buckles running along the chest and a moderately fitted stitch. He slipped this on, pocketed several of the smaller offerings, retrieved an old story and slipped back out of the hidden shrine. There was much love put into the small room. The Outsider mused about this, considering all he had assessed about Corvo. A good man, certainly. Perhaps, in his eyes, the best were that an option. He supposed, for Corvo, it could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally only just remembered that I set the age to older so I can swear. Fucking sweet.


	7. Its up to minnow

Instantaneous change was never the Voids typical style: Withering like water on rock, beating the shape and corroding centuries of formation in equal time. Glass churned into stone, stone into sand. Yes, the void took its sweet ass time - perhaps then it would be a surprising contrast to know the outsider was impulsive in nature once a course of action was established. Biding, perhaps, but not patient. Maybe tedium weighed his conscious and dictated his actions, maybe it was the slightest hint of human rebellion still buried beneath tired skin. The slow-going silence of time within Corvo's chamber was an itch he couldn't scratch. At least, within the eternity of Void, he had some form of exploration and control. Here, with millions of possibilities and so few paths, he faced vulnerability and boredom. He could no longer visualize future movement, see what could and should never be. Mortality. The outsider was suddenly are that Corvos life, accompanied with everyone in the vicinity, were so finite, just as his was in that time. Should a lowly assassin take a chance in the tower, he was as likely to perish, a threat Corvo faced daily; a threat that could easily be realized. 

The Outsider tried to stomach the sudden sadness such a thought brought him. Humans as a collective meant nothing, but a soul as scintillating as Corvo's deserved more than to burn out, more than a graves shadow in his wake. Regretfully, The Outsider would miss his companionship, not just the budding story Corvo had created. After all, this was the man he'd matched step with, from his decrepit attic in the Hounds Pit, across Clavering boulevard and the flooded district, consistently a pace behind and dancing between existence. Noone else marked had the pleasure of 'Conveniently' stocked food supplies or deterred witches that thrived throughout gristol. The lonely Rat Boy, as he was known, received some unnecessary aid, but given his corpse rotted in the same alley he was created, perhaps not as much.

In theory, Corvo should be no different from any other. The Outsiders actions were so incomprehensible as a celestial being but affectionate by human standards. Protection, company, closure, all comman within positive relationships. With such conflicting thoughts, being between man and god, he reached a worrying conclusion - he deeply cared for Corvo. This knowladge brought him more complexion than comfort, for what exactly did that entail? Was he supposed to act differently. The Outsider furrowed his brow, staring off into empty air. Any emotion or memory from his current... interlude of humanity may be lost should he return to the Void.

Being engrossed in thought would serve him no purpose, so with little enthusiasm he changed from last nights clothes into something more official (stashing Corvo's jacket in the process, finding a position behind the wardrobe and folding the soft leather with much care). The Outsider decided to use his vague recollection of certain areas in order to wander Dunwall Tower, being acutely aware of the occultists that appeared with sporadic consistency. He recognised the markings adorning the pamphlet he had read, placing them as the very fathers who had created him. Did they fear what their ancestors had created? A delicious concept for another time, he supposed, soft in tread against Corvos carpet and equally so in closing the door behind him. The Outsider had not forgotten about the security measures, knowing parts both from reading and his own disjointed memory, and concluded it was best to stay within the towers perimeters. 

He remarked the Empresses quarters in passing, guards stationed outside despite her being elsewhere. With the slightest inclination, he continued onwards and hesitated at the corridor. To his right lay a stretch of rooms, no doubt the library and kitchen amongst them, but ahead was an office, wolfhound stationed by the door. Were The Outsider to venture inside, the creature would both alert nearby men and attack within a single second. Alternatively, if he could channel the Void in a similar fashion to Corvos devouring storm, perhaps a rat would be a formidable distraction/scapegoat. With some trepidation, he put forward his left hand, willing forces of great power to submit before him.

Nothing happened. It was a fruitless endeavor, down heartening and foolish in equal parts.

When something brushed his shoulder he flinches away, turning quickly to note what could almost be a maid, were it not for their androgynous and tarnished clothes. There was a sense of familiarity to their features that he couldn't place.

"What're you doing by that office?" Her tone was blunt and precise, despite the meek voice that carried the words. 

"Observing," The Outsider scrutinized her, seeing no malice in her stature. 

"I saw you coming outta Corvos bedroom," The girl commented, shifter her hat ever so slightly as a patrolling guard passed them. Clever, "You two close then?"

"After a fashion. You bare him ill?"

"That office, its the High Overseers. He doesn't come here often, but nobles have funny ways of getting into strange places."

A smile toyed on his lips at the comment, "Very perceptive, although I do not appreciate you avoiding my question. What do you know of this... Overseer?"

"Full of himself," scorn trickled into her voice, notable distaste marring her expression, hushed tone still carrying her emotions, "like the ones before him. But he's convinced that Corvo is a heretic, and intends on exposing him at all cost. He'll have plans, perhaps not in there but within the abbey."

The Outsider considered this, weighing up his options. The girl bid him farewell, leaving him with great apprehension and a soft memory of ginger hair and pub-smoke. Strange words and stranger deeds when trust proved lethal, but with Corvos sense of valor and morality, was it so strange that he inspired loyalty in the least likely of places?

The Outsider considered their Abbey to be a rather unremarkable structure, built on the bones of its founders and militarised faith. Whilst some overseers recited strictures at night, others toyed with bone charms. Still, could he abandon the tower on the whims of a stranger? He would have to make haste, be fast enough that none would know of his absence...

\----

Corvo had long since grown weary of nobility and their petty desires. Insurance for their property by firing claims at competition, investing in business projects to increase their estate value... Needless to say, he was thankful when it was over. 

"That went well, didn't it Corvo?" Emily beamed, hopping out of her throne and skipping forward. With the court room empty, she was allowed these brief lapses. It was only fair, "Will we ever be able to fix the flooded district?"

"I doubt it, little empress," He walked close to her side, hands folded regally behind his back. The mark was flaring and pulsating, "Even if we managed to build a dam and stop the water flow, the houses would be beyond repair. Its better as ocean food."

"You think?"

He nodded sullenly, remembering his last 'visit', Daud included. Corvo supposed he, along with his whalers, would have abandoned their posts by now.

"We should build a new district then," Emily announced, "One full of houses, cheaper ones that the people who would have lived in the flooded district can live in."

Corvo returned her smile. Funding would be a problem, but the houses would no doubt be smaller than some built before, or consist of apartment complexes, "That sounds like a wonderful idea. What shall you name the district."

"Attano," Emily replied, giving him a long hug before being escorted away. She was set on the right path, Jessamine would be proud. 

With the warmth of her words, Corvo returned to his own chambers, tossing his jacket onto the bed before slipping into the bathroom to splash his face. Something felt entirely displaced, and were it not for the mark's sudden jolt of heat he would not have noticed that The Outsider was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine how annoyed the Outsider would be if he'd been sitting on the bed and Corvo threw his jacket literally onto his head


	8. Hook, Line and Sucker Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost as gay as me

The abbey in its entirety was rather underwhelming in the eyes of a millennia old deity whom it loathed, standing before the arches and main doorway with disgust tangling his features. He recognised their marks and symbols, knew their origins were interlocked with the Fathers that created him. It was a daunting and unappealing prospect, that such disgusting fanatics previously bred similar ilk, albeit different in cause. Still, little disturbed or interrupted him while entering the public area and he paced the main hall under sceptic examination from a masked guard besides the stairwell. 

After little time had passed and he had pointedly ignored their charity box, swallowing scorn, the Outsider approached the guard, noting the large mechanism not dissimilar to a music box in the mans possession. He had observed them before, seen them effectively disrupt the connection between the Void and the mortal realms, prohibiting use of 'magic'. Seemingly it worked effectively on both the Whalers and Corvo, a formidable opponent. He wondered if on a larger scale they would be able to disrupt the balance enough to shake him free. 

"None shall have access to the second floor." Gravel for a voice, harsh and bitter. Not a jolly man, apparently. Many morbid years prior, rats feasted on his mother while he recited the scriptures in white walls. He had felt no remorse. 

"I have important news in regards to a heretic," The Outsider had not perfected lying to any degree, perhaps something akin to the truth was a superior option, "And demand to speak to the High Overseer."

"Any heretic can be reported to me; where might we find the abomination."

"Inside Dunwall Tower."

The responding frown was practically audible, "I suppose that does indeed complicate matters. Pray you follow me, I will transfer your request to someone of a higher authority. Also, please lower your voice, it is... Disrespectful."

"Of course," The Outsider feigned a smile, uncomfortable though it felt. Formalities, humanity, everything he loathed and longed for and could never have. At least thousands of years never completely wilted his perspective on irony.

"As you can imagine, as such a significant figure, the High Overseer is often occupied, but such a request as yours warrants some course of action," The man informed stiffly, face twitching beneath his bone-cold mask, "And of course, any threat to our fair empress should be eliminated."

"I suppose it can be a difficult reputation to outlive, were any harm to befall the crown due to your own inadequacy," Was his easy reply, noting the art randomly decorating the major halls. He knew roughly these passage ways, occasionally being drawn back to Corvo's dreams, to searing Campells skin and even before, being pressed constantly by vicious heated-metal, nails ripped away... Yes, he knew these steps, falling easily into Corvo's beat as he walked, same light-tread and tense shoulders. There was a comfort in the assassins confidence, or perhaps there was confidence in the comfort of him, "I suppose the High Overseer would rather not be associated with any such failings."

A grunt in response as they arrived to a large official office, one Overseer situated just outside. The two exchanged low and quiet words before escorting him inside, one remaining as a sentry besides the door of the inside. Trepidation aside, The Outsider settled into wooden chair, window behind him and a good scope of the three available doors in each cardinal direction. Being only slight in stature, there was very little point of him resisting should conflict occur and inexperienced as he was with walking, running would be his safest option, provided the situation called for it. With defeated resignation he levelled his gaze with that of the Overseer.

"Tell me now, what part of the flooded district exactly is your child in?"

The returning flinch was enough, he had found their weak point with little question. How exactly he received his knowledge was an entirely different question, although between the disgusting flashes of void and galaxy, he could occasionally see people. Sometimes, they were far more grotesque.

"When you drift to sleep, do you still observe his eyes? The fear? Or, are they too corrupted, that you honestly believe yourself to hold the moral ground."

"I did my duty," The voice replied, strained but not weak, "As should you."

"I am," - my duty is to protect Corvo - "Hence why I'm here. But I suppose you wouldn't understand, being of such low rank and responsibility."

There was a twitch of fingers in response, itching to grab at his holster in response. For such a weaponized organisation, it must have been infuriating to feel so defenceless in that situation. Just enough so that the man stepped outside the huge double doors with the intention of taking a breather, giving The Outsider just enough time, or perhaps not enough.

Reacting quickly, he padded from the comfort of his seat across, noting the large cabinet before him. Any dirty secret stored within would be difficult to find, he had no doubt, but what he needed was far less conspicuous than a simple wad of paper. He retrieved a contraption from a chunky draw, stashing it directly beneath his chair while rearranging the contents of his pockets. Not for the first time that day, he envied Corvo's blink ability, having barely sat down before the red coat entered, signalling for the men outside to remain in their positions. 

His expression instantly fell upon seeing the Outsider, coy and pleasant, "I believe we have already had the pleasure of meeting."

"Indeed," He returned, feeling far more comfortable at the unsettled appearance of his opponent. He needed to be careful, make sure each moment was mapped perfectly, the risk was not only on him but also Corvo and to some extent Emily, "An apology for my front and past transgressions. I suppose you are unused to seeing Overseers without their masks on."

"Your one of mine?" The sceptizm was uncomfortable - this was dangerous territory, "May I offer you a drink?"

The Outsider made a dismissive gesture with his hand before continuing on, "I was under the employment of Cambell long before your reign, working inside the tower to scour for heretics. There has never been much love between our cause and theirs."

"Be careful who you disclose this information to," The high overseer settled down several seats down, sitting directly opposite, "I suppose you intend on telling me out of the goodness of your heart?"

"I simply want to help repair the good name our abbey deserves. I am to assume that your personal spies within Dunwall Tower have returned with very little? Or, have you come to place suspicion upon one of the residence?"

Scoffing, the Overseer sipped lightly on his whiskey, "There is much concern about the habits of their Royal Protector. Of course, we have huge concerns about the crown, and should such a young and sweet child be effected by the Outsider why, I would never forgive myself."

"My thoughts exactly," Was The Outsider's monotonous reply, making a mental note to take tutoring responsibilities from Cecilia sometime. Even Corvo had been suspicious of his intentions when communicating with the child, which he found somewhat insulting above all else. He truly did not deserve the reputation people thrust on him, "And I suppose your approved assassins have been very reluctant to challange such a whirlwind fighter."

"We have no such people in our employment -"

"Futhermore, several of them use powers drawn from the void, although this is far less of a concern for you I understand, since you too have dabbled in the dark arts... Past aside," The Outsider grimaced, "You fully intend on killing him either physically or reputationally, I have no doubt, and publically ridiculing the man who single-handledly repaired an empire is hardly going to succeed."

The high overseer settled, eyes still suspicious, "I suppose I should have expected no less for one of Cambells men, the sly bastard that he was. Always prepared to do the worst, as we in this position often have to be; Corvo Attano is no exception, although you must be aware of the kind of man that he is, the pure outrageous lies he festers and breeds. This is a man that must be stopped."

"Naturally. May I recommend Daud as a leading force? After all, having defeated Corvo once before, you can guarantee he'll do so again."

They spoke for a little while longer, The Outsider using his natural charm and slightly discerning presence to pressure honesty in response to his questions. Convincing such a powerful man to spill such dark secrets was not a simple process, and he needed to allow time for the Void to penetrate his mental defences between each question. There were very few above the influence and pure intoxication that infinite brought, with it loosening tongues and bending wills easily. 

There was a huge amount of consideration on the mans face and he nodded grimly. The Outsider stood, stepping around in order to shake an extended hand, slipping an old Bone Charm into the red coat as the figure turned for the door, "If you don't mind, I shall let myself out. After all, perhaps better for my digression to not be associated with you, should spies be integrated into the Tower, I expect a similar situation here."

The High Overseer nodded, and was quickly replaced with a misc man.

"Your leader is dabbling in the darks arts," He spat to this one, a far more violent presence than the previous guard. Good. With what little will he retained, he allowed Void to fester in his eyes, "Trust me, I would know."

The punch was not entirely unexpected, bringing him to the floor besides the chair. The Outsider snatched at something quickly before drawing himself up, staring at he perplexed overseer with much irritance in his light blue eyes and downturned mouth, "I will let myself out, thank you."

\--

Corvo, at this point, was terrified. Having been free from court for a short amount of time, he had wasted two separate vials of elixir blinking, scowering the Tower and it's perimeter for his deity companion. He had not anticipated being on a god-hunt so early after the creatures arrival into his plain of existence, or infact ever because who the fuck expects that kind of shit? Desperately he returned to his quarters - through the window, naturally - exhausted from exerting himself. Using Blink sporadically was hardly an issue, but consistently could easily cause problems. 

He slouched on the bed, head resting in his hands, restless turmoil intermingled with fear because hell he actually cared for the weird ass deity figure he had come to know (surprisingly well, actually). So naturally, when the bedroom doors opened and a slim, black-haired figure shuffled awkwardly inside, Corvo prepared to blow a fuse - Oh. Or not.

When the Outsider raised his head, there huge discolouration in his skin, focused particularly around his left eye, bruising beginning to raise and swell the surface. 

"Are you...?" Corvo brought the man to his bed, settling him down and holding his jaw to examine the damage, "What in voids name have you been up to?"

"I've had worse," Came the simple reply and something pushed into Corvo's stomach; an audiograph, "From the High Overseer. His words, in fact. Ignore me talking, I'm just there for exposition."

For several seconds, Corvo did not understand. He simply hovered there, blinking, "You actually...?"

"Yes."

"While I was....?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

For that, there was no answer The Outsider could be sure on, "I was reliable informed that they intended to harm you. I did then what I have since you were first freed from Coldridge, I protected you."

With his hands now cupping the thin face in his hands, Corvo felt a rush of emotions, inexplicable and scary no doubt, but thrilling. With little hesitation he pressed their lips together, kissing the god while praying he hadn't just brought Armageddon. 

When they parted, the Outsider was staring at him intently, gaze flicking between his eyes, "What was that?" - a slight pause, enough for Corvo to regret his decision - "Do it again."

An undeniable request, he supposed, and kissed once more, this time feeling lips part beneath his own and uneasy hands reach into his hair. There was a certain unfairity in how quickly The Outsider learned, teasing Corvo's lips between his teeth before pulling away, resting his forehead on Corvo's shoulder, "I can taste an end on your tongue."

Corvo decided it was easier to play along, especially given the kind of day The Outsider had just experienced, "Whose?"

"You should know," The Outsider whispered, restless fingers twirling brown and tattered strands while cool breath tickled Corvo's collarbone, "Mine."


	9. Planktonic Relations Be Damned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry this chapter is the definition of filler but I've been having major anxiety sickness so writing has been quite hard, I'm working on it I promise

"If I return to The Void, I may forget this," The Outsider hummed, melancholy weighing his voice like shoes on a drowning man, "Just as I forgot when I first washed up. Possibly an unfair analogy, as that was the shock of being disfigured..."

Somehow, when distracted by his lips, they had traded position, concluding stance with Corvo on his bed being straddled by the deity who'd planted one foot on the ground while the other was suspended by his knee. This in turn was pressing into the dark wood beneath the mattress, helping him remain stable while adjusted to keep his torso in close proximity to the royal protector. Corvo's hands were resting on slender hips, thumbs slipping beneath the leather jacket and softer, more elegant fabric, trailing circles across the smooth skin. Each breath ghosted across the face before him, his natural warmth reaching an equilibrium with the radiating cold and sea breeze that naturally engulfed the Outsider. It was hard to imagine such a creature as anything other than celestial, "You remember now?"

"Yes, although my... Human memories remain, for the time being. I have not thought back so far in a long time, it's not dissimilar to intentionally ripping an open wound, resulting in a tremendous amount of blood at once. The notion of the pain itself, as you can imagine, is unpleasant."

Corvo conceded, a statement hovering in his mind for several seconds before, "If you go... It would be better if you forget... Easier."

"Perhaps," The Outsider snaked his hands from where they had been cupping Corvo's neck, this time meandering across his shoulders and settling on his chest, applying more pressure across his heart, "But perhaps I don't want to. I am entitled to such a want, am I not? After many millennia, several days hardly seems like a fortune."

Want was a strange notion - a human one. After all, what could a god possibly desire that he could not have? If the Outsider had to chose one wish, after his short exertion in Dunwall, it would be for company.

Corvo was weighing up the question, clearly contemplating what to say next. They had hardly spoken in depth about anything other than the Void and as fascinating as that was, the topic was tired at best. It wasn't as if, as a practical man, Corvo could excessively talk about culture or literature, or anything for that matter. Contrary to how that sounded, he was not a stupid man, simply did not have time to embrace the customs (nor the patience) and most the stories he knew were childrens fables he recited to Emily. His voice was gravel in comparison to the Outsiders fluid dialect, no doubt resulting in the god being a far better narrator for such stories. Samuel had previously told him several old sailors stories, whimsical beliefs of powerful creatures lurking beneath the ocean, occasionally in close proximity to the mans boat. Corvo suspected such stories would either be regarded with boredom or already known to the leviathan. 

The Outsider raised the audiograph that he had produced earlier, holding it between them like a barrier. Barriers were good. They provided distance, space to think, "I personally believe you have three days grace before action is required, although anxiety is entirely unnecessary in this situation. They have little in their power to do, given how fragile their position is in regards to the tower and general public. In addition, given the majority of Dunwall - an indeed Gristol - lies in your favour, there is little for you to fear."

Corvo wondered what exactly had been organised in his absence, feeling tension creep into his shoulders. Teeth nipped his neck playfully, his collar hanging loosely off his neck, but he made a dismissive gesture and craned backwards, trying to peer out the minuscule crack between the curtains, contemplating the time of day. Evening sun bled across the sky, the softer pinks caressing his face. 

He knew what their situation, what their positions, were implying. With little conviction, he pushed lightly on the body infront of him, letting the Outsider peel off and stand aside, his explanation simply, "Not now."

The Outsider's expression twisted in confusion but he didn't speak, instead he chanced a glance into the small distance the windows revealed. Longing crept into his features, "May we go to the shoreline soon?"

"Of course," while beach was not visible from their vantage point, one might glimpse the reflection of sun against water shimmering along the horizon, "After food."

This was met with a face of consideration, "Eating is such a strange concept. If you fail to, you will die; in regards to this, it becomes tradition. A ritual, if you will."

Corvo nodded, not entirely sure of the relevance; no doubt as a leviathan he did not require a meal but given the man's record of neglect, perhaps food held a higher significance to him? Questioning each and every thing a generally incorporeal being said or did was going to result in Corvo going mad, "Is strange? Needing things?"

"Strange," He echoed the word, testing how it tasted on his tongue, "Yes, strange, but more than that, it's a reminder. You are human, after all, although a very bad example of one." When met with a grimace both sceptical and irritant, The Outsider elaborated, "No offence intended, of course. You're simply far more sporadic than most, do not hold any particular faith, can endure far more pain than others I've witnessed and have a connection to the void. Naturally, the latter is more my fault than yours."

Somehow, despite the strange use of words, that could almost be a compliment. Intent aside, there was little point in speculating at that point. Tiredness crept into his skin, the exhaustion from constantly searching for the Outsider mingling with a general discomfort that endless court sessions always brought. Attempting to avoid being 'snappy', he knew better than to try conversing any further. 

He had a lot to think about, moreover, such as contemplating what the hell the Outsider meant to him, or worse, the other way around. 

With a defeated noise, Corvo let himself fall backward onto the bed, his arms stretched over his head and the comfort of the mattress dispelling the events of the day. The Outsider peered at him curiously before perching on the edge, lingering, living up to his namesake Caution be damned, Corvo reached out and physically pulled the lean body, bringing him into a similiar, although less dignified, position.

When met with little complaint, Corvo decided he was content to sleep until called upon. After all, there would no doubt be interruptions soon, might as well enjoy what he could, right?


End file.
